Just the three of us
by Beckydaspatz
Summary: Tag to 7x15,angst, Dean doesn't get to rest for long...


**A.N.: Just a little tag to 7x15, I know it's a week late, but the idea would NOT leave me alone. I hope you guys like. Sucks we have to wait 3 weeks to see what the fall out is from the end of 'Repo men.' Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. :-) Oh and Thanks to Dorothy for the title, you're the best!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nuddin'!**

The first noise he hears in his semi-conscious state is a groan. Not pained, or scared, the noise completely void of anything that should really set him on alert.

He shifts on the scratchy comforter and tries to achieve sweet oblivion once more when he hears a soft whisper of "No."

No? No what? He wants to ask, wants to make sure Sam is as okay as he has been acting but he can't seem to make any noise move past his windpipe. He's just so tired…five more minutes Sammy, please. Five more minutes …

There is a gasp and an uttered. "Stop."

Something's wrong. He can feel it. He peels his gritty eyelids open and manages to turn to the side facing his brother just as Sam's mouth parts in a vicious scream.

"DON'T!" He bellows and throws his arms over his face to protect himself from some invisible assailant.

That does it, Dean's awake now.

"Sammy?" Dean questions, urgently reaching out for his brother.

His eyes dart across the room, his breath stuttering out of him in quick, painful gasps, his fingers digging furiously into his palm.

Dean can see the thin line of blood starting to pool there.

"Sam?" he tries to grab onto one of his flailing appendages as his hand closes on air.

Sam stares past him. "He's not here dammit! This isn't happening."

Dean whips his head around to stare at the menacing…TV? What the hell is going on?

"He got out." His brother pants, scrambling to get away from Dean. "It's just me. He's not here."

Dean approaches his wide eyed brother with both of his hands held up. "What is it man? What's going on?"

Sam's eyes land on him briefly before flitting back to the corner of the room he is so fascinated with. "It can't be. It's not real."

Real? Shit, is _that_ what's going on?

"Sam? I'm here okay. This is real."

Tears start to form in Sam's already devastated eyes.

"Listen to me bro, you're okay."

Sam's nails continue to dig into his palm. "No, you can't be here. Not here. Not again."

Again? Oh no…God no…

"Sam," he pauses and gingerly takes his brother's battered hand in his. "You're not there either. You're here. And yeah, here is a bit of a shithole as of late, but it's real Sam. I'm _real._"

Sam turns his eyes from the spot he is so fixated on and back to his brother's face. "He's not here? You are?"

He hasn't heard Sam sound this scared for a long time. He looks to where his brother's bloodied and shaking fingers point.

"Who?"

Sam bows his head down towards his chest. "Lucifer."

"No Sam, he's not. You're pointing to a wall bro. Yeah, it's an ugly ass wall, but it's harmless."

Sam nods as tears fall down his face.

"Sam," Dean starts moving into the spot that Sam is still eyeing with worry. "How bad is it?"

Sam can't look at him as he mumbles. "Bad."

"We'll figure it out Sammy. You and me."

Sam nods again, still staring at that spot.

Dean gets Sam settled into bed and then he plops back down on his own.

A couple hours of sleep should fix this…maybe…please God…just this once.

He is woken up by a clatter of noise from within the bathroom.

Now what?

Sam emerges, his hair wild, his hands bloody and injured.

"Sam, what the hell did you do?" Dean hisses, launching out his bed.

Sam smiles softly at him, his eyes sporting a sort of madness that Dean has never seen before.

"I figured it out Dean," he states, his legs giving out on him. Dean makes it just in time to catch his bloody brother on his way down and gathers him into his lap.

Minutes later he's peeling out of the parking lot with his brother in tow, barking out information to the 911 operator.

"He's bleeding a lot." He yells into the phone as he slams on the gas. "Fuck, I don't know, a lot! More than he should be. He's unconscious. I'm on my way." He slams the phone shut with a curse.

"Don't you do this to me Sam, don't you _dare_._"_

In the backseat, unseen by either of the Winchesters Lucifer laughs and marks an invisible tally in the air with one of his fingers.


End file.
